


waiting for the sun

by SaccharineCoffee



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chronic Illness, Crohns Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, The author needed to vent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaccharineCoffee/pseuds/SaccharineCoffee
Summary: Arthur's body protests, but he has work to do.He ignores it until he no longer can.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	waiting for the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Been having A Bad Time™, particularly today, so I quickly thought this up in hopes it would make me feel better.  
> Almost entirely based on my personal experiences with this shitstain of an illness.

Arthur stared down at a file he’d been trying to read through for the past hour.

He brought his face to his hands, dejected. 

His stomach hurt just enough to screw up his concentration, and the way his knee and hip joints pinched in the back of his awareness didn’t help in the least. The longer he kept his eyes closed the longer he didn’t want to open them again.

_You’re better than this. You’re better than this. You’re better than this._

Arthur rubbed his aching stomach, though he knew it wouldn’t do much help.

He knew very well that if he lay down it would get better. He also knew that if he didn't, it would only get worse. 

But he couldn’t lay all day. He had work to do. Arthur was the best point-man in Dreamshare for a reason, and laying around in his bed watching sitcoms like some lowlife wasn’t the reason why.

So he got up, went to the warehouse’s poor excuse of a kitchen, and poured himself his fourth coffee that day.

It didn’t even taste good anymore. Just made him feel sicker.

A permanent frown and dark circles under his eyes had been plaguing his visage for at least two weeks now, which didn’t look all too good with the discoloured paleness of his skin. Dom asked if he was okay only once, but he could see in his eyes and could tell by his voice how constantly worried he was.

But he had work to do.

With his fourth mug finished and another few papers read, he ran a shaky hand through his hair. It confused him how his stomach could now be protesting around the waistline. His trousers had been so comfortable during the first few hours of the day, so it only made sense for it to continue that way, right? Wrong, he supposed.

_Focus. Focus. Focus._

The harder he tried to focus the more he found himself doodling nonsense on his moleskin notebook.

  
What is wrong with you. 

“Arthur, love, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

Arthur exhaled sharply. He didn’t need unnecessary distractions, not right now.

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Mr. Eames?” His voice came out a lot softer and breathier than he attempted to convey, the pain and discomfort seeping through without his control. It felt humiliating.

Eames seemed displeased and worried. He walked closer and spoke softly.

“Have you eaten anything since lunch?” 

“No, why?” 

“That’s a great question, Arthur. Care to explain _why_?”

He sat up a little in his chair, attempting to look more composed than he really was, and looked up at the forger.

“Just under the weather today.” He undermined it. Arthur didn’t need babysitting. He needed to do his job.

***

Inception, for Arthur, had been both a success and a disaster.

Arthur never fucked up. He never compromised his team, his work was always flawless.

The mistake he committed was inexcusable, it was amateur, as was the rest of his research. Had Dom not been so obsessed with going back hom, he would have noticed Arthur’s faults sooner. 

However, at the end of the day, it had been a success. The work he accomplished mid-dream was something to be proud of.

So, tired as all hell, emotionally drained and feeling somewhat bittersweet, Arthur decided to not take any jobs for a while. He had enough money to live an extravagant lifestyle for the next ten years, so maybe taking a year off wasn’t so bad an idea.

That’s how Arthur found himself at Dom’s house, playing with the kids and drinking wine with his friend. At one point in the evening they were tipsily messing about with a PASIV and its components, laughing at nothing and talking about everything.

Arthur felt better than he’d felt in years.

And then he fainted.

***

A few weeks and several medical procedures later, Arthur was told he had Crohn’s Disease. Apparently he’d had it for at least three years, according to his symptoms.

The doctors said it wasn’t anything to worry about, comparing his case with other patients, but that his intestines were in pretty bad shape regardless.

It was frightening, being told you’re chronically ill. It was scary, confronting the reality that he wasn’t the best, that he had limits, and that he was overstepping those same limits that very moment. He didn’t even want to think about the ulcers and open wounds in his body, stress threatening to evolve into panic.

Dom helped. He brought the kids to visit, kept company, and ironically kept Arthur’s sanity in check.

A few days later, he was discharged.

He was surprised to find Eames waiting for him at the entrance with another one of his stupid patterned shirts. It had a warm yellow tone and it complemented his tanned skin to a T.

Arthur smiled at him.

“Dom called up my hotel and asked me to pick you up,” his voice was honey, and it played with Arthur’s heart. “I’m almost hurt you didn’t call first.” 

“I’m very sorry by my delay, Mr. Eames. I’ve been quite busy.” Arthur was happy and it showed in his tone.

“I meant after the job,” he responded brightly, albeit a bit uncertain.

Arthur contemplated the crease between Eames’s eyebrows, his soft eyes and the freckles beginning to appear on his sun-kissed skin.

He leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, stubble tickling his lips.

“So, are we leaving or what?” He muttered with a lazy smile, uncaring of Eames’s sudden inability to talk.

“Y-yes. Right away.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed that, don't forget to kudos and comment :)
> 
> I'd also like to promote another A/E fanfic about this illness. It was written by a lovely person with a different type of experience, so please check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038192


End file.
